Cheers

“The land knows you, even when you are lost.”
― Robin Wall Kimmerer

This has been an odd fall and even odder December when it comes to apples.

There is snow on the hills to the east of Stony Run, yet all the early fall varieties have hung on and hung on (as opposed to just the Granny Smiths*), and I find myself repeatedly wandering out to gather and press -- well, the "press" has been put away, but Daughter has gifted me her old juicer, and it's powerful enough to do interesting things.

No idea what the climate is up to, but we're not likely to pass up a silver lining around here. If there's a lesson in all this Solstice largesse, I hope I'm listening, but while doing so I'll also harvest.

“To garden, you have to be extremely aware of your surroundings, of where you sit and walk and the specific tastes and flavor of the land. You need to understand where the stream runs and how the trees bloom, to take the pulse of your garden, and train your powers of observation. A garden is not natural. It is all artifice. We make it, respecting the rules of nature and the ecosystem.” -- Wendy Johnson of Green Gulch Farm in Garden Design

I dunno, I think whatever exists is "natural," but "respecting the rules" is something I do get: giving up greed, anger and delusion so as to be able to pay attention -- makes sense, don'tcha think? So I've learned to mulch, compost, chop-and-drop and intercrop, but I do still feel rather ignorant of what's going on out there.

There are plenty of vegetables and herbs around this winter. The kale is happy:

but it often is at this time. Notably, so is the lettuce.

Plenty of parsley.

I have gathered the medlars. Not being into making jelly, and having no better idea what to do with them, I put them through the juicer --

-- and chased them with a carrot, a beet, some kale, and a basket of apples.

This resulted in a refreshing drink one might call "Holiday Red," to be quaffed with some Bach harpsichord works. Cheers.